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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25331188">The Virtues of Blindness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atroposisms/pseuds/Atroposisms'>Atroposisms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shall We Date?: Obey Me!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Forced Orgasm, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Mild Smut, Multiple Orgasms, Or Very Ominous Solomon, Orgasm Control, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Reader-Insert, Rope Bondage, Slightly Ominous Solomon, Smut, Teasing, depends on how you read it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:14:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25331188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atroposisms/pseuds/Atroposisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it's better to not see.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>272</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Virtues of Blindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyAndroid/gifts">ActuallyAndroid</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm baaaack. Finally.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Is something the matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fake concern in his voice sends you into a rage, and you want to lash out at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-you...oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit -</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Your voice breaks off into a low moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really now, if there’s a problem, you should tell me,” Solomon says, his voice teasing, clearly enjoying the way you’re struggling. “How am I to know what the issue is if you don’t say anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You strain to reach for him, intent on wringing his neck - or well, you would if it weren’t for the restraints. Still, you manage to reach out a few inches, fingers curling around where his neck should be. You smile, although it’s more of a grimace -the knots are starting to slip, and you try again, reaching for the damned sorcerer, hoping the knots will come loose entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear to God, Solomon, if you don’t -” You stop again, another low groan forcing its way out of you. “When I get free -” A shudder rolls over you, and you arch your back, dig your nails into your palms hard enough to bleed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should you be invoking that name considering you’re here in Devildom?” Still smiling, he reaches towards you, tugging the blindfold back over your eyes. Your vision instantly becomes a field of black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I know what you’re trying to do, you know,” he continues. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a noise - no, several noises. Footsteps. The soft shuffling of fabric. He’s walking around you, circling. The obvious comparison of Solomon as predator comes to mind. And you… you’re bound, helpless. Easy prey. You swallow, and bite your lip, tension rising in your body as you stiffen. You hate that you can’t see him, can’t try to guess as to what he might do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little louder now. You can feel his presence at your side, a hovering ghost. Well, considering his mood tonight, maybe poltergeist is more accurate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gentle fingertips brush over your fingers, trail over your palm and over the tiny cuts your nails have left there. He tsks, taps on your palm and you can imagine the faux-disappointed look on his face that soon morphs into a smug little smile. You know that not so deep down, he’s pleased with the effect that he has on you.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not one of the demons that you live with. Not Simeon, the angel. Not even the Demon Lord. It’s him who can drive you to the brink, to reach a place where you’re forced to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much </span>
  </em>
  <span>that it becomes a strange sort of pain that you can’t help but want again and again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nails scrape their way down to your wrist, a feathery tease. You can’t tell if you want more, to have him pin you down properly instead of merely tying you up or or if you want to flinch away from his touch, that anything more would be simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I should learn to tie these knots better, they’re really quite sloppy,” Solomon muses, “Perhaps Satan has some book on it. I’m sure he does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In direct contrast to his words, he re-ties the knot quickly and efficiently, drawing the rope tight enough it scrapes and burns. You hear a sharp snap - from his fingers, you think - and the buzzing between your legs intensifies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There. Much better, hm? I think you were getting too used to that particular setting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All thoughts are driven from your head, instead replaced with a white-hot pleasure that burns. You whimper at first, trying to swallow down the sounds that you know he so desperately wants to hear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solomon snaps his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red bursts in your vision, and you’re glad you’re lying down in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You’re shaking, violently. The fire surging through your veins becomes ever-hotter. You bite your lip hard enough that you bleed, and the soft presence of Solomon reaches over, wiping away the trickle that runs down the side of your face. The back of his fingers trail across your cheek. A sweet, gentle caress. A coaxing touch. Just give in, give in and give him what he wants from you, it’s so easy, just moan. All you have to do is moan and beg for him. To touch you, to stop making you cum, to fuck you, to forgive you - </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Still, you refuse. It’s a terrible, stubborn game you play with him, one where you inevitably lose. And yet, each time, you think there’ll be a different outcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snaps his fingers again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cum for the… Well, who knew, really. You’d lost count of how many times you’ve already cum tonight, far more than previous times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your legs are shaking, body arcing so high off the bed you fear you’re going to snap yourself in half. The toy continues to buzz away insistently between your legs, not caring about the forced pain-coated pleasure that you’re feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solomon snaps his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cum.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another snap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cum, again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And another snap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cum again, and again -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And another snap of his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You cum - and you give up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scream as you tumble off that cliff yet again, the pleasure now more pain than anything else, a raging inferno engulfing you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Solomon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, please!” Your voice is ragged, and more noises escape you in a torrent, although you’re not sure if you’re begging for him, moaning his name or simply screaming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The toy stops immediately and your body falls back down onto the bed with a thump, and you lay there, trembling. Your mind is blank - not thinking, simply feeling and merely existing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solomon reaches for the ropes tying you to the headboard, and quickly undoes them, carefully placing your arms down at your sides. He sits down at the edge of the bed, and waits patiently for you to gather yourself back into your body. There’s the urge to touch you, to sweep the damp strands of your hair out of your face and massage your wrists to encourage blood flow. But considering what he just put you through…better to let you calm down first and regain some general sensation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits there quietly, watching you breathe -  short, sharp gasps initially before calming down into deep breaths. The tremors subside as well, and it’s only then that he takes your hand into his, thumb stroking your soft skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Your voice is a hoarse whisper, and an exhausted grin lights your face. Somewhat stiffly, you roll onto your side to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome back. How’re you feeling, pet?” Solomon returns the smile, gently squeezing your hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stiff. And sore.” You laugh weakly. “Normally I’m only this sore </span>
  <em>
    <span>after</span>
  </em>
  <span> you fuck me into the mattress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you had simply given in sooner…” Solomon trails off, looking both exasperated and incredibly smug at the same time. “But how are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fills the room as you pause, and scan through your body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still hurts a bit. And really sore. I’m okay, mentally and emotionally and all that. Just really, really tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” His other hand reaches towards your face, brushes the strands of hair sticking to your skin away from your face before cupping your cheek. You turn your face slightly to lean into the touch, sighing quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was good, Solomon.” You kiss his palm. “But very evil of you, you know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something flattens in his expression, his gaze hardening somewhat. Even his soft smile seems to slip off like a mask. Suddenly it’s not Solomon sitting there, but something ancient and cold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An alarm starts to coil in your body, and you blink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His smile is back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Solomon. Your human boyfriend, here in Devildom, the one who loves to tease and play games with you until you beg for him. The one who holds you close and helps you whenever you need it, assisting you with assignments and keeping you safe, calls you pet and leaves kisses that linger in your mind before class. The sorcerer and your one other connection to the human world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Solomon, the human. Who else could it be? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You imagined it. You must have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, help me clean up, okay? I don’t want to go to bed covered in sweat.” You smile up at him, and hope you’re good enough to hide that it’s a nervous one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course." He helps you up off the bed, an arm curling around your shoulders. It always surprises you just how strong he is. "You should stay the night, you know. It’s not often I’m able to have you here all to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You don’t miss the implication.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The demon brothers take up too much of your time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Solomon pulls you tight against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You decide not to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course I’ll stay.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr @ atroposisms</p><p>'Wow, how many fics about edging/orgasm control/etc can you possible write? Aren't you beating that kink to death?'</p><p>Yes, I certainly am but who's going to stop me?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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